Every Secret Thing

by Rebecca Hartt

  “Well, I’m fine,” she assured him, “thanks to these two.” She gestured to Saul and Lucas. “These are the SEALs who rescued me from the Bahamas.”

  “Bahamas!” Martin shot her a look of disbelief before stepping forward and extending his hand.

  “This is Lt. Lucas Strong,” Charlotte said, making introductions.

  Mr. Martin, seeing Lucas’s right arm strapped to his torso, switched hands and gave Lucas’s left hand a firm shake.

  “And Chief Saul Wade,” Charlotte added.

  “I can’t thank you men enough,” Director Martin clipped, grasping Saul’s hand with equal zeal. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the upholstered armchairs facing his desk, then turned back to his goddaughter. “Charlotte, tell me everything,” he commanded, steering her toward the chair closest to his desk. Wheeling his own chair out from behind it, he sat down next to her.

  Lucas heaved a sigh of relief to be off his feet. His back throbbed with every beat of his heart. As Charlotte relayed how she was kidnapped and drugged only to wake up in Roger Holden’s plantation house, Lucas willed his pain to subside so he could listen better, perhaps even add a word or two. He was grateful to Saul for paying close attention as she went on to explain how the SEALs had rescued her.

  Her godfather interrupted, asking the SEALs in his peremptory manner, “How on earth did you know where to look for her?”

  Saul spoke up before Lucas could. “We’re not permitted to disclose that information, sir,” he said quickly.

  “No, of course not,” the director agreed. “It’s just that I had my own people looking everywhere, and we came up with nothing.” He regarded Charlotte again and grimaced. “Well, you’re home now, and that’s all that matters,” he relented. “Tell me what happened to you,” he ordered.

  Charlotte shrugged and said simply, “Obviously, someone didn’t want me bringing you that evidence.”

  “Commander Dwyer,” the director guessed, then glanced sharply at the SEALs. “Wait, Dwyer is your commander, isn’t he?”

  “Unfortunately, he is,” Lucas acknowledged, speaking through a jaw clenched in pain. “We’d like to prove he’s been stealing weapons in advance of the Teams, but all the evidence disappeared when Charlotte was abducted.”

  Director Martin frowned at their dilemma. All at once his brow cleared. “Wait, not all of it,” he corrected Lucas. “Charlotte emailed me some pictures of a journal with entries that implicate Dwyer’s XO of sending unauthorized emails.”

  He looked back at Charlotte who smiled at him hopefully. “I was just going to ask you if you still have those pictures.”

  “Of course I have them.” Pushing off his feet, Director Martin sent his chair shooting back behind his desk where he performed a quick search on his computer. “Right here. I kept them thinking I’d go after Dwyer myself if you never came back. Should I print them out for you?”

  “That would be great,” she agreed. “And forward them to my personal email, if you would, but not to my work address,” she added with a look of frustration. “Apparently, I’m not an intern for NCIS anymore. They must have fired me when I failed to show up for work.”

  Martin’s blue eyes flashed as he looked up at her suddenly. “That’s absurd,” he stated with affront. “You were kidnapped. What were you supposed to do? Call in sick? I’m going to make some phone calls about this,” he added, reaching for a pen as if to scribble himself a note.

  “Oh, no, don’t do that,” Charlotte begged him. “It’s no big deal, really. I don’t want to work at NCIS anymore anyway—not when one of the higher-ups is clearly protecting Dwyer.”

  “Protecting him how?” Martin wanted to know.

  Charlotte gestured to Saul. “Well, for one thing, Saul’s testimony about what happened between Dwyer and Lieutenant Mills was completely overlooked. And for another, my supervisor’s hard drive, along with all his evidence against Dwyer, disappeared within a day of his death.”

  Martin’s lean face flushed with indignation. “I can’t believe all this corruption,” he muttered, sending the SEALs a sympathetic look. He wrested his gaze suddenly back to Charlotte. “Dwyer doesn’t know you’re back in the area, does he?” he inquired with concern.

  Charlotte bit her lower lip in lieu of answering. Lucas could tell she couldn’t bring herself to withhold everything from her godfather. “Um, he might,” she prevaricated without giving any details.

  Larry Martin waited for her to say more. When she kept mum, he looked back at the SEALs and said in his terse manner, “Please don’t take offense, gentlemen, but Charlotte would be better off staying with me for a while—at least until your arm heals,” he added, glancing pointedly at Lucas’s right arm.

  Lucas was tempted to tell him nothing was wrong with his arm, but that would entail explaining how he’d gotten shot in the back, and they’d agreed not to bring up the subject of The Entity or the warehouse.

  Charlotte spoke up before he could. “Thank you, Uncle Larry, but I have to stay with the SEALs. Lieutenant Mills is on trial because of Dwyer, and I promised to help him weeks ago, remember? That’s what my supervisor would have wanted.”

  Martin considered her with a long, worried look. “What about bodyguards, then? I can assign two of them for additional security, and you’ll never even notice them. They come with their own housing in the form of a Winnebago,” he added persuasively.

  Charlotte looked to Saul and Lucas for their reaction. “What do you think, guys?”

  Lucas balked at first, his pride resisting the notion that they couldn’t protect Charlotte themselves. But then he realized The Entity, once they figured out who had broken into their warehouse, might come looking for reprisal. Moreover, if Fitz was protecting Dwyer, not tearing down The Entity like he’d said, the SEALs couldn’t count on the FBI to protect them. So, yeah, they could use all the added manpower they could get.

  “We’ll take them,” Lucas gritted, having received a slight nod of approval from Saul.

  “It’s set then,” Martin concluded, wiggling his mouse to bring up something on his desk top. “Galbraith and Stone will be waiting in the lobby to follow you when you leave,” he added decisively.

  “Thank you, Uncle Larry,” Charlotte murmured as Martin finished putting in his request.

  He straightened abruptly to look at her. “Have you spoken to your brother yet?”

  “Yes, I called him from the Bahamas. “But Fi—” Charlotte caught herself just in time from mentioned Fitz’s name. “But I figured,” she recovered smoothly, “that Calvin would be safer if I didn’t call him from within the USA.”

  Martin regarded her thoughtfully. Lucas wondered if he’d noticed Charlotte’s near slip-of-the-tongue and was wondering what she’d been about to say. “You’re probably right,” he finally said. “How long do you plan to stick around? We could all go to lunch, my treat,” he offered.

  Charlotte shot Lucas an assessing look. “I don’t think so. Not today, Uncle Larry. Lucas needs to rest.”

  “Rest where?” Martin demanded. “You’re not driving all the way back to The Beach, are you?”

  “No, we’re going to stay at my parents’ townhouse for a couple of days,” Charlotte answered for all of them.

  This was the first Lucas had heard of such a plan, but Saul’s complacent reaction suggested he and Charlotte had discussed it without him.

  The director turned a concerned gaze on Lucas. “I hope my men give you some piece of mind so you can recover, Lieutenant,” he said kindly. It was clear he was dying to hear what had happened to him but was too professional to ask.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “I’d better give them a heads-up.” Moving toward his phone, Martin buzzed his secretary. “Donna, make sure Galbraith and Stone received my orders. I want them ready to scramble in five minutes. No, I don’t need them at the golf course,” he added, countering something she said on an impatient note. “I’ve gone there a thousand times without inciden
t. Charlotte’s safety comes first,” he added, on a note that wasn’t to be argued with.

  “Uncle Larry,” Charlotte protested when he released the button.

  “I don’t want to hear a word.” His firm tone was countered by the affectionate look he sent her as he pushed to his feet. “Commander Dwyer has kidnapped you once. I’m not letting him get to you again.” He rounded his desk with his arms outspread. “Now give me a hug and stay safe,” he ordered her gruffly.

  Realizing it was time to leave, Lucas rose unsteadily to his feet.

  Charlotte embraced her godfather one more time. “Promise me you’ll start eating again,” she ordered as she pulled away.

  “I’ll get fat as a boar now that you’re alive,” he declared with a tolerant smile. “Gentlemen,” he added, shaking both SEALs’ hands a second time. “Charlotte means everything to me,” he added, implying they had better protect her with their lives. Then he crossed to the door and pulled it open for them. “Don’t forget to grab the printouts from Donna,” he reminded Charlotte as they all filed out.

  Lucas had to concentrate to put one foot in front of the other. Pain shuddered down his spine with every step. He wanted to keel over and die. Instead, he forced himself to pay attention as Charlotte fetched the printed photos of LeMere’s journal and carried them into the elevator.

  As they stepped inside, Saul put a steadying hand on Lucas’s elbow. Charlotte, who was busy scanning the printouts, let Saul push the button for the lobby.

  “Little John needs to rest now,” Saul said, speaking as if Lucas wasn’t there.

  Lifting her gaze from the printouts, Charlotte eyed him with concern. The pain Lucas was feeling must have shown in his face for she immediately stuffed the papers into her purse and propped herself under his good arm.

  “Don’t faint on us,” she ordered sternly, sounding just like her godfather with her clipped words. The concern in her eyes, however, warmed him all the way to his toes.

  “Too much going on for me to faint. As soon as we get to the car, one of you needs to call Jaguar’s lawyer and find out what happened at the motion hearing.”

  Charlotte patted his hand. “We’ll take care of it, Lucas. You don’t have to be the man with the plan right now. Just take it easy. Once we get to my folks’ house, you can rest.”

  Lucas had no choice but to relinquish control. As Director Martin had implied, he wasn’t of any use to anyone in his present state. It was definitely a good thing Martin had offered them the use of his personal bodyguards. Without them, he wouldn’t dare to even close his eyes, not given their uncertain situation and the element of danger still in play.

  Chapter 14

  Carrying a tray of soup and crackers and a few other items she’d found in the pantry of her parents’ kitchen to the second-story bedroom she had occupied as a teen, Charlotte paused at the doorway. Affection welled in her as she watched Lucas sleep.

  In order to fit on her full-sized bed, he had to lie diagonally. Even so, lying on his stomach and hugging a pillow with one arm, his feet hung off the mattress. She should have put him in her parents’ king-sized bed, only she rarely entered that room.

  The mellowing sun shone through the cracks of her lowered blinds, painting gold stripes across her mauve quilt. Charlotte hesitated. Was Lucas wearing any clothes? His bare back indicated he was at least shirtless.

  Saul must have helped him undress. He’d also removed the Velcro strips that kept Lucas’s arm pinned to his chest. A crisp white bandage covered the surgery site, indicating Saul had swapped out the old bandage using the first aid kit in his car. Good thing all SEALs had some medical training, and Saul more than most.

  Tiptoeing forward, she carried the tray to the desk near her bed. Despite her stealth, Lucas heard her, raising his head.

  “Hi.” She put the tray down and faced him. “How do you feel?”

  “Better.” His voice was gruff from sleep. A two-day growth of beard darkened the lower half of his face. He appealed to her so powerfully, she forced herself to look over at the tray.

  “I brought up some food. It’s pretty basic. There was nothing but canned food in the pantry.”

  “What time is it?” he asked, glancing at his bare wrist.

  “Almost 8 p.m.” Seeing his watch on the bedside table, she went to collect it for him.

  “Thanks. I can’t believe I slept so long,” he lamented, strapping it on.

  “It’s good for you.” With her heart in her throat and anticipating the sight of his bare body, she watched him push to his knees, grimacing with discomfort.

  His triceps flexed and his pecs bulged, keeping her spellbound as he painstakingly scooted to the edge of her bed. To her mixed relief and disappointment, he dragged the comforter with him, keeping it around his hips.

  Once settled, he looked her up and down with interest. “Is this the real you?”

  Charlotte cut a self-conscious glance at her salmon-pink sweat-top and faded jeans. “Sort of. These are just some old clothes I left here.”

  “I like the look,” he said with warmth in his dove-gray eyes. “Much more approachable. You look really young. Full of potential.” The observation seemed to depress him.

  With a slight shrug at his strange mood, she handed him the tray. “Sorry it’s weird.”

  Lucas regarded the various offerings—vegetable soup with crackers, a bowl of applesauce, and baked beans.

  “Trust me, I’ve had way worse,” he told her, then dipped a cracker into his soup.

  “The Gallstones wouldn’t let me order pizza. Tomorrow, they said.”

  He stilled for a moment, processing what she’d said, then flashed her a smile. “Galbraith and Stone. The Gallstones. Very clever.”

  “I amaze myself sometimes.”

  He laughed at her wit, spooned up some soup, and blew a cooling breath across it.

  Charlotte’s gaze centered on his lips, and the memory of their kiss blew threw her. The thought of never kissing him again filled her with a deep sense of loss. More than anything, though, she would miss the way they bantered back and forth.

  “Tell me more about your godfather,” Lucas requested between slurps. “I take it he was a friend of your father’s?”

  Charlotte eyed the bed, wondering whether to sit or not. “His best friend,” she answered, staying on her feet. “He and my dad had two tours together, Japan and Ecuador, so I’ve known him all my life. Uncle Larry didn’t make a lateral shift from the CIA to DIA until I was in high school.”

  Lucas looked up at her with interest. “You grew up overseas. I just realized that.”

  “Not the whole time. I spent my teen years in this house. Dad got a job at Langley, and he and Uncle Larry got to hang out again.”

  “What did your mom do?”

  Charlotte thought back. “She accompanied them when she could, but she was busy driving Calvin and me to all of our extracurriculars.”

  Lucas gave up using the spoon and tipped the soup bowl to his mouth, draining it in seconds. He then tackled the baked beans. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “Yes. Does my staring bother you?” she inquired. “I’m supposed to put this ointment on your back when you’re done.” She pulled a tube of Neosporin out of her back pocket. “Saul’s orders.”

  “Hmm.” Lucas studied the tube, then looked up at her.

  Charlotte’s pulse quickened at the expression in his eyes.

  Lucas finished his meal in short order. Neither of them spoke another word until the bowls had all been emptied.

  “Guess I was hungry,” he commented, patting his mouth with the napkin she’d supplied.

  “Guess you were.” Taking the tray from him, Charlotte placed it on her desk, then twisted the lid off the ointment and, with a self-conscious smile for Lucas, joined him on the mattress so that she was looking at his back.

  “Are you squeamish?” Lucas asked as she peeled back the adhesive and lifted the bandage from the wound.

  “Not particularly
.” All the same, the line of stitches poking out of his red, puckered flesh made her stomach lurch. She squeezed ointment directly onto the wound and rubbed it in with one gentle finger. “Does this hurt?”

  “No.” His voice was gruff, like a purr. “Feels good actually.”

  Charlotte didn’t want to stop. Lucas’s broad back, with its complex interplay of muscle and sinew, was like an irresistible playground. It took all her willpower to re-cover the bandage, rubbing the adhesive tape down so it would stick. The impulse to embrace him from behind overwhelmed her suddenly.

  Wrapping her arms around him on a whim, she laid her cheek on the back of his good shoulder. It felt so good to hug him again.

  “I’m glad you weren’t killed,” she murmured.

  She would have released him if Lucas hadn’t clamped a hand over her arm, keeping her from moving.

  Locked against his back, Charlotte ran her free hand lightly over his ribs. “Are these the ones you broke?”

  “Other side.” He took the wrist he’d pinned and moved her hand over the left side of his rib cage. “Can you feel a bump? The bone is thicker where it healed.”

  “I think I feel it,” Charlotte said, but all she felt was the thudding of his heart, beating like hers was, a tad too swiftly. Touching his warm, silky skin filled her with a clamoring to feel his skin on hers.

  “I should go,” she said, wriggling reluctantly off the bed.

  Lucas released her with disappointment he didn’t bother to mask. “I enjoy your company,” he admitted, as she put a foot on the floor and stood up next to him.

  Her heart lifted at the confession then twisted when she remembered why they couldn’t have a future together.

  “I enjoy yours, too,” she confessed. “I’ve had a really great time with you,” she added, trying to lighten some of the tension in the room. “Despite the high-speed car chase and thinking you might die on me,” she quipped.

  He drew in a breath and let it out again, causing her eyes to slide to his rippling abs.

  “I don’t suppose I could talk you out of joining the CIA and sticking around The Beach?”